


Ownership

by wood_originals



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: (sort of), Cock & Ball Torture, Dubious Consent, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:29:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25561345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wood_originals/pseuds/wood_originals
Summary: Tig is in trouble, which is to be expected. Tara is going to teach him a lesson, which is less expected.
Relationships: Tara Knowles/Tig Trager
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	Ownership

The bar was noisy and full, some SAMTEX members were in town, girls from Cara Cara were spread around the room, along with their friends, and the music was loud enough that their favourite sheriff would probably be paying them a visit by the end of the night.

It was Tig’s perfect kind of night. Not that he had much time to enjoy it before Tara stormed in. The other people in the room parted for her like Moses as she stomped over to him, cocking her hips to the side and crossing her arms.

“Well, hey, sweetheart. How can I help you?” Tig asked, letting his shoulders drop and rolling his head on his neck, well aware of all the eyes on them.

“Bedroom. Now,” she said, words sharp like scalpels, before she brushed by him, bumping her shoulder into him. She walked past the old bike and disappeared in the direction of Jax’s old bedroom.

A couple people whistled, and someone from the side that sounded like Chibs asked him what he did wrong this time. Tig flipped him off and turned on his heel, following her at a leisurely pace.

Tara stood in the room, back turned to him, standing in a way that reminded him of a thunderstorm brewing at the edge of town.

“If you wanted to get me alone, you could’ve just asked nicely,” Tig said, stepping towards her, trying to charm away any problem he may have caused, fix it before he had to learn what it was. “I would’ve said yes.”

Tara turned around slowly, glaring at him. If looks could kill, that would’ve taken another one of Tig’s nine lives away from him. She walked around him and quietly closed the door, muting the sound of the party at the bar.

Tig fidgeted a bit, cracking his knuckles. “Look, I don’t know what I did, but I’m sure I didn’t mean it.”

Tara laughed. The sound was cold, biting. “You didn’t mean it? When you and the boys were on a run, and you tried to corner Jax in the bathroom, you didn’t mean it? When you whispered in his ear that it could be your little secret, you didn’t mean it?”

“Ahh, darling, come on now,” Tig said, holding his hands up in surrender, a smirk on his face. He lost the ability to feel shame a while back now, probably left it at the morgue and didn’t figure out it was missing until it was too late, and it was a hard thing to fake. “That’s just guy stuff.”

“You pressed up against him, tried to finish rutting against his leg like a dirty mutt,” Tara said. Her words were planned, careful. She pulled out a pair of blue medical gloves from the tight back pocket of her jeans, pulling them onto her hands slowly. “That’s not guy stuff. Gives a bad name to guys, and you all do a good enough job with that already.”

Tig’s eyes were glued to her hands. He leaned back on one foot, taking a half step back from her. He chuckled again, but the confidence was slipping away.

“What do you want me to do? I can’t take it back,” Tig said with a smile, biting at the inside of his cheek.

“No, you can’t.” Tara started walking towards him. He wasn’t about to let her back him into a wall, so he brought his leg back up, stood tall in front of her. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t need to learn better, for next time. Because there _won’t_ be a next time.”

Tig stared at her, mouth open, not sure how to handle the situation. Of course he was a little afraid of Tara, it’s what made her hot, but she was Jax’s old lady, the VP’s old lady, and he didn’t know what he could do here. It’s not like he was against hitting girls, but he wasn’t looking to get killed, one way or the other.

Before he could figure out what to say, Tara pointed at the ground between them. “Kneel.” Her voice was clear as crystal, and just as pretty, and hearing her say that did something terrible to Tig.

There wasn’t much to be done for it. Tig knelt.

Tara reached out, grabbing a handful of his hair. She tugged sharply and pulled his head back, glaring down at him. Immediately, Tig wondered if he made a mistake. Instead, he tried joking again, “Are the gloves really necessary?”

“Unfortunately, I know where you’ve been,” Tara said. She was almost sneering down at him now, and he remembered seeing that expression on her face once before, when she was looking at that girl from Cara Cara who was always trying to climb Jax like a tree.

Tig didn’t feel like it was exactly fair to get clumped in with her, but it didn’t feel like he had much high ground to stand on at the moment. He kept quiet, for once.

“Jax is mine,” she said, firmly. She tugged at his hair again for emphasis. Tig liked a bit of hair pulling now and then, but this wasn’t the fun kind. She was trying to make it hurt. Tig had a feeling she knew exactly what the difference was. “Do you get that? Because I’ll repeat it as many times as I need to. I _own_ Jax Teller. And I don’t appreciate other people rubbing up against my property.”

Tig made the mistake of laughing at that, a nervous chuckle more than anything, and right away he felt the sharp toe of her boot pressing up against his cock through his jeans. Again, lots of different things could be fun in the right instance, but Tara knew exactly what she was doing, and Tig winced. She kept the pressure there.

“Jax is mine,” she said again, softer this time. She was such a pretty thing, Tig couldn’t help but notice it through the fog of fear and arousal he was feeling. As though she could tell he was getting hard, she leaned in even more, and Tig swore, jerking in her grasp. All he managed to do was tug at his own hair, though; she really had him pinned.

“Alright, alright, I get your point, Doc,” Tig gave in, trying to sound as remorseful as he could manage. “I’ll stay away from the pretty boy, he’s all yours.”

Tara leaned in, holding his head back at a painful angle now. She reached up with her other hand, the latex glove so smooth against his skin. She hooked her thumb into his mouth, against his bottom lip, and pulled his mouth open. “Next time you want to touch something that’s mine, ask first.”

She never broke eye contact with him as she spit into his mouth. He felt the wet land on his tongue, screwed up his face and twisted away from her violently. It was her time to laugh this time, pulling away from him all at once, watching him fall back on his ass. She was back at the door by the time he was back on his feet, peeling off the gloves and tossing them into the waste bin by the door.

Tig did his best to glare at her, shaking his hair out, still feeling her phantom grip there. Looking at her little grin, he realized that in his thrashing to get away, he swallowed what she gave him. Her eyes flashed down to the front of his jeans, cock straining for her, though he was mighty close to giving her a black eye.

“Don’t touch until you learn how to ask. Okay?” her grin turned into a sweet, honest smile, forever the innocent little thing with venom in her veins. “Have a good night, Tigger.” She turned around and left the room.

When Tig came back out five minutes later to rejoin the party, Tara was still there, cozy between Bobby and Chibs, laughing with her head back, dark hair trailing down. He glared at her from across the room, and when she looked over at him, she just winked.

Tig didn’t know if it made him want to touch Jax more or less. He didn’t know if he wanted to smack Tara or pin her down. He just knew he didn’t like what just happened, despite the way his body reacted, and he wasn’t going to try and see what would happen next.


End file.
